


Mafia for Two

by scarletkestrel



Category: One Piece
Genre: Alternate Universe, Because Sanji, Canon-Typical Violence, Except I have no idea how mafias work, Humor, Kinda, M/M, Mafia AU, Slow Burn, Swearing, Trying to remember how to write plot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-13
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:46:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 16,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24690100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scarletkestrel/pseuds/scarletkestrel
Summary: When Sanji gets a new job, he finds out that he's working for the Strawhat crime family. He just wants to keep his head down and be a chef, but the don has other ideas. When he starts to get pulled into their adventures, he'll have to decide if he's in or out. And he really needs to stop noticing their swordsman, who is both a total jerk and one of the best fighters Sanji's ever met.
Relationships: Roronoa Zoro/Vinsmoke Sanji
Comments: 13
Kudos: 95





	1. So Your Boss Is a Mafia Don, And Also Insane

**Author's Note:**

> One Piece is my first love and I'm finally kicking my own ass and actually publishing something for it. I'm not caught up so this doesn't have everyone new. I hope you enjoy! This chapter is mostly an introduction, but hopefully the plot will really take off as we keep going.

Sanji was pissed. This, in itself, was not novel, as he was often pissed. Pissed at rude customers, his idiotic coworkers, or his dictator of a boss and father figure. But today was kind of the opposite. He was pissed that he wouldn’t have those things anymore, because he’d just been fired. 

“You’re not being fired, you knucklehead,” Zeff had yelled at him when he had demanded to know what he’d done to deserve this. “Stop being dramatic, you’re just being transferred. I know the owners and they’re desperate for a new head chef. Said they need someone who’s not just a good chef, but can run a kitchen and hold their own in a fight. I told them I knew someone who fit the bill.” Sanji blinked, stunned at the roundabout praise. 

“Also it’ll get you out from under my feet,” now that sounded more like the shitty old man. “Now, the decision’s made and that’s that so get your stuff and get the hell out of my kitchen.” Zeff proved he was back to his usual self by kicking Sanji into the wall. He took the blow easily, years of practice making it second nature. 

He didn’t kick back though, still too in shock from what he still couldn’t stop thinking of as “Fired”. His ex-boss was already halfway to the door when Sanji finally dragged himself up off the floor. “Oi, shitty old man,” he called. Zeff grumpily turned back, ready to kick him again rather than continue a pointless argument. “What’s the restaurant anyway?” Sanji asked, resigned to his fate. Zeff grinned. “It’s called Thousand Sunny. It’s over in the east city. Serves traditional Japanese mostly.” 

Normally, Sanji would have been thrilled, japanese was one of his favorites to cook, but currently he was hung up on another part of that sentence. “Thousand Sunny?” he called incredulously, “the notorious mob hangout?!” Zeff just shrugged, “guess so. You’ll be fine. And they’re expecting you in an hour so get a move on.”

A move on. To his new job. Working for criminals. Great.

__________________________________________________________________________

Sanji was trying his best not to be really bored. He’d arrived at the restaurant just on time and had been introduced to the maitre’d, a nervous looking man who’d been assigned to show him around the place. Sanji had to concede it was a beautiful restaurant, with traditional japanese wall hangings and polished tables made of dark wood. However, he still had a chip on his shoulder about being assigned to the place without a choice and his tour guide was starting to grate on his nerves.

He chewed unhappily on his unlit cigarette. When he’d taken it out and moved to light it halfway through the tour, the irritating maitre’d had practically tackled him. “Sir,” the man informed harshly, “there is no smoking in the restaurant.” Sanji had acquiesced, but only because he didn’t feel like getting into a fight about it at the moment. He had no intention of never smoking in, what was essentially now, his restaurant. 

At the moment though, he was wishing he had fought the man on it. The feeling of a cigarette between his lips was comforting but not as much as a hit of nicotine would have been. 

They had just passed through the kitchen, which Sanji had grudgingly approved was up to even his high standards. The man was on some kind of rant about the owners, Sanji tuned him out and absently wondered if the man knew that he was working for the mob.

This area had been a hub for criminals for as long as anyone could remember. The town had a proper name, but no one used it. Everyone just called it the Grand Line because of all the trade and traffic that went through it. The city was divided into four boroughs, nicknamed for the cardinal directions they represented. Each section was unofficially controlled by a different organization, or crime family.

The west city was the stomping ground of a mysterious group of ex-government agents called CP9. The north city housed a pyramidal organization known as Baroque Works. The south city was a little more fluid and changed hands pretty often, though Sanji had heard rumors that a new contender was on the scene up there and that he was a serious player. Enel, or something like that. 

And the east city, where he was now, was home to the Strawhat crime family. He’d never had anything to do with them personally. The Baratie, where he’d worked until this morning, was located in the north city and known for the fact that all of their staff were tough enough to take on any criminals that might think of taking advantage of the place. Now here he was, working for the restaurant that was the Strawhat’s base of operations. 

Just then, he heard a disturbance in the back. Strange, he thought the place was empty except for a skeleton crew staff. The restaurant was closed today.

Sanji poked his head out of the kitchen, looking out past the empty restaurant to the occupied back room. The commotion originated there and Sanji ambled closer, stopping in the doorway. He didn't want to get involved, but he was certainly curious as to what was going to go down. He decided to watch quietly. If, for some reason, he needed to step in, he wasn't far. 

A man was standing arrogantly in the middle of the room, staring down a figure stretched out in a large armchair. Sanji recognized the figure in the chair as the head of the crime family that owned this establishment. The man must be either very brave or very stupid. 

Once the man spoke, Sanji realized there was a third option, very arrogant. "You're telling me this is the boss?" the man scoffed, oozing disbelief, "he's just a kid. I know petty crooks who could beat his ass." It was a dangerous thing to say to a Don who sat right in front of him. 

It was true that the boss didn't look like much. He was thin and gangly and he wore his signature straw hat over his messy black hair. At the man's words, the boss just broke into a wide smile. "My name's Luffy. Nice to meet you." The man's jaw hit the floor and Sanji covered his mouth so he wouldn't laugh out loud and draw attention to himself. 

Sanji could see where the man would misunderstand Luffy’s appearance, but Sanji knew better. He’d been around this type of world his whole life. People didn't rise to power in the mafia by accident. If someone was high up in the chain, you could be sure that they'd earned it. Especially if they didn't look like could handle it, because that meant they'd had to work twice as hard to get where they were. If Luffy was the head of this family, Sanji was sure he deserved to be. When playing on this level, judging by appearances was just going to get you killed. 

Luffy, however, did not seem to be in a killing mood. He was still laughing at the dumbstruck man before him. Finally, the man broke out of his shock and the scowl that he had previously sported slipped back onto his face. “Whatever you’re doing, it won’t work,” he warned, “you don't scare me.” Luffy just looked confused, “What am I doing?” Sanji wondered if there was any way the guy was actually as dumb as he was acting. Surely it was just an act to mess with this moron in front of him. It certainly seemed to be working. The man was getting more and more shifty as he stared down Luffy’s smile. 

“C’mon Luffy, get rid of him. We don't have time to play today,” the voice preceded the person as she stepped out. She’d been sitting towards the side, blocked from Sanji’s sight by Luffy’s big chair. Now that he was looking at her though, he didn't know how he'd ever missed her. 

She was stunning. Her short red hair was twisted up in an elegant chignon so he could clearly see her delicate features. Her wide eyes and small mouth currently held only disdain for the loser in front of her, but he could just picture how her face would light up if she smiled. He could only imagine how it would feel if she actually smiled for him. A small voice in his head chose this moment to remind him that he’d recently sworn off girls after the debacle that was his last relationship. But damn, if she didn't look like someone worth breaking that promise for. 

She tossed her head, flicking a small tendril of loose hair back into place. Luffy was pouting exaggeratedly and she seemed to be going out of her way not to look at him. “But Nami…” he whined piteously. She gave a small stomp, literally putting her foot down on the issue, “No. We have that thing, remember? The very, very important thing.” Now that Sanji looked, she did look like she was headed somewhere important, dressed in a short, tight navy dress and heels. Though, who knows, maybe she dressed like that every day. Sanji was certainly hoping so. 

Luffy sighed dramatically. “Fine,” he turned back to the man, “you have to leave, we have to go to a-” He was cut off suddenly when Nami hit him very hard over the head. “Maybe don't tell the stranger our personal business, Luffy,” she recommended in a distinctly non-asking manner. 

The man finally noticed Nami, giving her a long slow once over that had Sanji rolling up his sleeves to go deck the sucker. Nami noticed too, but just rolled her eyes. That is until she went to walk past him and his hand shot out, wrapping around her upper arm so she couldn't leave. She gave a small tug and he increased his pressure. Before Sanji could take a single step to intervene, he was beaten to the punch. 

Luffy was between Nami and the stranger before Sanji even saw him move. He grabbed the man’s wrist with enough force that the man’s fingers involuntarily opened and Nami took a step away. Sanji couldn't see his face under the brim of his hat but he could feel the change come over him. Suddenly, the enthusiastic and lighthearted boy was replaced with a presence that radiated power and gravity. Sanji could feel his aura from where he stood and he had to resist the urge to take a step back. 

Luffy tilted his head up and a sliver of light fell on his face. His grave expression aged him and deepened the curved scar under his eye. “Don’t touch her,” he warned, his low tone carrying raw threat. The man was practically quaking in his boots, obviously he was no longer under-estimating the boy based on his look.

“Luffy, stand down,” a new voice added itself to the mix. Had there really been another person in the room that Sanji had missed? He looked around but couldn't see anyone, following the sound of the voice into the very back corner of the room. There, in the shadows, a figure was stirring, rising up slowly. He must have been sitting on the floor, tucked out of sight.

The man stepped into the light as he continued to talk, “I’ll take care of this guy. I happen to like this place and if you fight, it’s going to get decimated.” Luffy’s face had lightened considerably when his friend had started talking. He now shrugged, conceding the point. “You always get to have all the fun,” he said with utter casualness, as if discussing where they might order a pizza from, “fine, he’s all yours, Zoro.” Luffy shrugged again and dropped his hold on the interloper, wandering over towards Nami.

Zoro. Was that what the new player’s name was? He was tall, all tan skin over sculpted muscles. There were several odd things about him that Sanji filed away for later consideration. Like that his spiky hair was shockingly green, or that at his waist he carried not one, but three swords in polished scabbards. 

At the moment though he was totally distracted by the expression on the swordsman’s face. It was the most bloodthirsty thing Sanji had ever seen. His smile was like a mix between that of a wild animal and a demon. Unlike the other two, Zoro was everything you expected a gang member to be, someone you wouldn't want to come across alone in a dark alley.

Sanji’s view of what was shaping up to be a bloody murder was suddenly interrupted. The small maitre’d that had been giving him the tour was bouncing nervously in front of him obviously looking for his attention. “What?” Sanji asked, a little snappish at having been distracted. “I’m told you are an extraordinary fighter, is that right sir?” the worried looking man asked. Sanji didn't like to brag, but he couldn't lie either. He settled on a simple nod. 

The maitre’d jumped from foot to foot so quickly he looked like he was dancing, “please sir, you have to stop them, they’ll destroy the place.” Sanji wondered if he’d been listening, “no, it’ll be fine. That green haired guy is going to fight so the boss doesn't break anything.” The maitre’d got even more distressed. “That won’t work, sir. The swordsman is as ridiculously powerful as the Don. They are both monsters. He will break this building in half without even trying. Please, you must stop him,” the man begged piteously. 

Sanji rolled his eyes and sighed. He really, really didn't want to get involved in this. Getting between the swordsman and his prey seemed like a really good way to get killed, but the poor man sounded so desperate that Sanji couldn't say no to him. “Fine,” he muttered unhappily and started walking towards the gathered few, hands shoved in his pockets. He really hoped that this wouldn't turn into a horrible first impression. 

By the time he got close enough to intervene, the swordsman was already swinging. He could see the light glinting off the edge of the blade and could tell without touching that it was wickedly sharp. Combined with the tight pull of the swordsman’s muscles, he could see that this was a ferocious swing. He was going for the kill. And if Sanji wanted to keep the maitre’d happy, and the restaurant standing, he was going to have to take it. 

This is going to hurt, he had time to think before he was bringing his leg up so the metal of the sword hit his shoe instead of slicing through the idiot behind him who was still too frozen in fear to dodge. Shit! It hurt like a mother fucker. The blow reverberated up his leg and into his bones. He had to grit his teeth to keep his leg from shaking. Sure, the swordsman looked strong but this was another level. That damn maitre’d was right, that swing could level the place. 

The swordsman noticed the tightening of Sanji’s jaw and smirked. “Too much for you?” he muttered, voice low and rough. Sanji smirked right back. Sure this bastard was strong but nothing he couldn't easily keep up with. He just hadn’t anticipated the power of the first swing. 

He twisted his foot, dislodging the blade and swinging around immediately with a kick aimed at that stupid green hairline. Zoro caught his foot with crossed swords, grunting slightly on contact. The bastard was fast to have caught his attack, but he had obviously underestimated Sanji’s strength just like Sanji had underestimated him. Sanji leaned in, adding pressure to his foot, and repeated the other’s words, “too much for you?” 

Zoro grinned wickedly and Sanji understood, feeling a bit of the same thing himself. It was a grin that said in a world where you were the strongest guy you knew, you finally found a decent sparring partner. The shared moment lasted about a second before they both came back to themselves. 

Zoro remembered that some man he didn’t know was standing between him and the bastard he was trying to kill. Sanji remembered that the only thing between his throat and that guy’s lethal intent was his leg and while he was confident in his own strength and skill, that guy wasn’t playing around. 

Zoro’s grin had shifted into a glare of open hostility. “Who the fuck are you?” Zoro growled from behind bared teeth. Before Sanji could answer Nami finally decided to step in. Apparently she and Luffy hadn’t left yet. 

“Boys!” she commanded sharply, “knock it off.” Without releasing their glare, both men broke the power struggle, the force of it pushing them both back a few feet. Zoro sheathed his swords with a sharp snick of metal on metal and muttered disgruntledly under his breath, letting Nami know exactly what he thought of her ordering him around. Nami rolled her eyes, it was nothing she hadn’t heard before. Sanji lowered his foot, rolling his ankle slowly to stretch out the tension from the short fight. 

Then he remembered a beautiful woman had just had to tell him off. Oh the shame! Instantly, he was down on bended knee in front of her, grabbing her hand and placing a gentle kiss upon it. “Oh my fair mademoiselle. I deeply apologize for having troubled your sweet heart. I was merely trying to deter this savage brute from destroying your beautiful restaurant.” Nami’s eyebrows had shot up into her hairline. Women were often surprised at his gallant behavior, a testament to how few gentlemen were truly left in the world. 

Zoro snorted incredulously and Sanji shot him a brief scathing look before returning his attention to the gorgeous Nami. She smiled at him, but extracted her hand from his. Her eyes finally landed on the maitre’d dancing back and forth in place and the pieces fell into place. “You must be the new head chef,” she deduced. He beamed at her cleverness and stood to do a proper introduction. 

He bowed low, “it’s a pleasure to meet you. You may call me Sanji.” She shook his hand and Sanji awkwardly felt like he’s just signed a business deal rather than met a person. “Zeff told me he was sending someone over, I just didn't expect you so soon,” she said formally. Sanji froze, “you know the old man?” Something about her smile was a little too calculating. Unbidden, he got a mental image of Nami and Zeff huddled in a back room cackling and scheming at his expense. 

He shook the image away, that was ridiculous. Nami was a beautiful lady, she would never do such a thing. 

Suddenly, Sanji realized that something had latched onto his waist. He looked down and realized that the something was a someone. Luffy had wrapped his long arms around the cook’s waist and was looking up at him with wide eyes. “You’re a cook?” he asked wonderingly. 

“Yes,” Sanji said grumpily, “I believe I just said that.” He attempted to pry the boy off but he couldn’t get his leg up high enough to get a decent kick off. The boy only gripped tighter, practically scaling the cook’s body. “Sanji! Feed me!” he cried almost desperately. He sounded like he hadn’t eaten in days which Sanji knew wasn’t true because he’d seen the other chefs send a lunch out to the back room less than an hour ago when he’d been touring the kitchen. 

Sanji tried to recoil but it was impossible with the kid clinging to him. “Get off me, asshole,” Sanji growled. A small part of him knew rationally that this was a dangerous man and his boss, but at the moment he was just an irritating kid. Sanji looked to Nami for help, but Nami was smirking, offering no assistance. Apparently, this kind of thing happened a lot. 

Desperate, Sanji turned his gaze to Zoro, not really expecting anything. Zoro rolled his eyes but wandered over anyway. He grabbed Luffy by the scruff of his shirt, bracing himself by putting his hand on Sanji’s chest so he could separate the two. Obviously, he had experience prying Luffy off of his unfortunate victims. Now normally, Sanji was against men touching his chest but since it was between that and having Luffy surgically attached to him, he decided it was by far the lesser of two evils. 

Besides, Zoro’s hand was solid and warm and much more comfortable than the human suction cup he was currently sporting. Zoro gave one last sharp tug and Luffy came free with an almost audible ‘pop’. The force was considerable and Sanji stepped back a step to compensate. Luffy hung pitifully from Zoro’s grip, pouting. “Meanie Zoro,” Luffy whined, “I’m hungry!” 

Before that line of complaint could be continued, there was another commotion. The front door slammed open and voices, one loud and one soft, floated towards the back room. The two people appeared around the corner a moment later. The first person was a beautiful girl. She was pale with soft blond hair and a billowy white dress. Despite her slight figure, she was supporting the guy she was with, who looked a wreck. 

Sanji supposed that mobsters must get into fights a lot, but he had no idea why this beautiful blond was stuck being used as a crutch. He was all ready to storm over to tell the loser leaning on her off, not to mention introduce himself to the loser’s female companion, but Nami got there first and he felt it would be rude to interrupt her. 

“Kaya,” she called excitedly, catching sight of the girl and greeting her like an old friend, “it’s been too long. How are you?” She had thrown her arms out for a hug as she approached and upon reaching her friend she threw her arms around her, casually dislodging the injured guy’s arm and dropping him unceremoniously to the ground. Even though Sanji had been planning to do something similar, Nami’s cold treatment of someone she obviously knew almost made him wince. 

Kaya glanced at the guy on the ground, obviously concerned, but Nami waved it away before Kaya could even voice it. Nami pulled the other girl towards a table on the side where they could sit. She talked animatedly and Kaya responded to her questions gently, looking over her shoulder at the injured guy every few seconds. 

“Oi, Usopp,” Zoro called out to the lump, “you alive?” Usopp, which must be the lump’s name, stirred piteously on the floor to prove he was alive. Zoro walked over and rolled the guy over with his foot. The man had dark skin, curly hair, and appeared to be wearing some sort of cape. He was covered in dark bruises and his long nose was crushed and bent. 

Luffy ran over, laughing. “Hey Usopp! What’s up? You get in a fight again?” he laughed like he was saying something hilarious as he slammed his friend on the shoulder. Sanji wondered if the boss understood things like injury and pain. It seemed not. 

Zoro stepped in, hauling Luffy off of someone for the second time that day. It seemed the enthusiastic mafioso had trouble understanding personal space. Zoro held him by the back of his shirt as he ran in place trying to escape. Finally, Luffy gave up and dropped with a huff, sitting cross legged on the ground. Zoro maintained a casual grip on his collar to make sure he stayed put. 

While Usopp panted on the floor, Zoro leaned over him, “last chance to throw in the towel and just be dead.” Sanji was faintly horrified, but Usopp seemed to take it in stride. He pointed up at the ceiling victoriously, the pose ruined by his horizontal position. “Ha!” he cried loudly, “like anything could ever kill the great...Captain Usopp!” Sanji rolled his eyes, this guy was insane. Zoro seemed to share his sentiments, but was too used to it to comment.

“You asked for it,” Zoro grumbled under his breath. He turned around and raised his voice, “Chopper! Get out here!” He directed his rude summons to the back of the room where a door led to what Sanji assumed were offices. The tour hadn’t made it that far yet.

The door cracked open and a head popped out. It was a boy, only 12 or 13, with wild light brown curls and big, shining eyes. This must be Chopper, but Sanji couldn’t imagine why he’d been called. “Usopp’s hurt,” Zoro informed the kid, hooking a thumb over his shoulder to point at the injured guy. 

Chopper flew through the doorway and raced to Usopp. “Oh my goodness,” Chopper cried hysterically, “he’s hurt. Doctor! We need a doctor.” He was panicking, flailing his arms until Zoro dropped a heavy hand on his shoulder to ground him. “Chopper, calm down,” Zoro instructed gently, “you’re a doctor.” 

What?! The kid barely looked old enough to be in high school, let alone graduated from medical school, but Chopper calmed down. “Right, right,” Chopper murmured, taking a deep breath. Instantly the panicked boy was gone and in his place was a collected professional. He prodded at Usopp gently, taking his pulse and humming thoughtfully. 

“I need my medical bag,” he announced. Zoro looks critically at Luffy, “if I let you go can you go get Chopper’s medical bag and come back without getting distracted?” Luffy nodded and saluted comically, “aye aye!” Zoro released him and he scampered off through the door Chopper had come through. 

He returned almost immediately, lugging a bag that was almost as big as the kid doctor himself. He dumped it next to Chopper who immediately started rummaging through it, pulling out one unidentifiable instrument, using it for a minute, before diving back into the bag and pulling out another. The entire time his face was focused and serious. 

Sanji turned to Nami with his eyebrows raised. He was trying to figure out how to ask why there was a child practicing medicine without offending or distracting the boy in question. Nami seemed to understand and gestured him over to the table she and Kaya were sharing. He approached and lowered his voice so as not to disturb the others. 

“So...Chopper?” he asked tentatively, not sure how to phrase his question. She nodded. Obviously, she had had this conversation before and knew what he was thinking. Nami-san was wise as well as beautiful. “He’s a prodigy,” she explained, “his guardian who taught him medicine is too old to take care of him now so she left him here with us. He knows more than any doctor in a hospital, but no one will hire him because he’s a minor. Luffy took him in and now he helps out here. Luffy has a habit of taking in strays.”

Sanji looked over at the huddled group of Zoro, Chopper, and Usopp and could see what Nami meant. They were a weird group, for sure. Loathe to leave the ladies, but curious about the tiny doctor’s process, Sanji thanked Nami quietly and wandered back over.

After a few more minutes of careful diagnostics, Chopper shut the bag and turned to Zoro to report. Sanji wondered why Chopper wasn’t reporting to Luffy and that’s when he realizes that Luffy was no longer waiting patiently with the rest of them. He’d snuck around the group and was now trying to break past the maitre’d, whom Sanji had honestly completely forgotten about, to get to the kitchen. Sanji sighed. When the fuss settled down out here, maybe he’d go make him something.

He turned back to hear Chopper’s prognosis. “He’s going to be fine. There’s no concussion or internal bleeding. All the wounds are fairly superficial.” Usopp chose that moment to groan and open his eyes. Chopper was instantly in his face, “Usopp, how are you feeling?” Zoro cut in before he could answer, “how’d you get so hurt, moron?” Usopp sat up more seriously, preparing to tell his story. 

“Well, I had just saved a kitten from a burning building and I come out and suddenly I’m surrounded by ten, no, fifty huge men! They said to come with them, but I said that no one apprehends the famous Captain Usopp.” Sanji rolled his eyes, who would believe such obvious lies? 

“So I took out the first ten with my famous jiu jitsu technique.” “You know jiu jitsu? That’s so cool!” Chopper’s eyes were shining. That answered that question. Chopper believed lies like that. 

Usopp continued, “the next twenty were harder, they had huge broadswords,” “Don’t be ridiculous,” Nami interrupted, “nobody in this city is stupid enough to fight with swords except Zoro.” Sanji’s eyes instantly snapped to the three swords on Zoro’s hip. Sanji didn’t know if the swordsman was stupid, he probably outclassed every thug in the city with those things. 

“Actually, lots of the mafiosos in this city fight with swords,” Zoro grumbled quietly, but Nami silenced him with a quick hand. “Whatever. You know what I mean.”

Usopp was about to continue his story but Nami decided that she was finished indulging him. She leaned towards Kaya across the table. “Tell us what actually happened, Kaya,” she said loudly. Kaya chuckled, “I’m afraid the only fight Usopp-san got into was with two flights of stairs.” 

“Kaya!” Usopp whined, sounding betrayed. She looked at him guiltily, “my apologies, I did not want your friends to be worried.” Usopp’s unhappy expression melted into a reluctant smile. Apparently, he couldn’t stay mad at the pretty blond. Sanji smiled privately, those two were obviously crazy about each other. 

Nami sighed deeply and stood. “Alright, not that this hasn’t been super fun,” she rolled her eyes at Usopp, “and Kaya, I really would love to stay and talk longer, but Luffy and I really do have somewhere to be.” On hearing his name, Luffy bounced over to the exasperated redhead. “Where are we going? Is there going to be food? Because I’m hungry! Sanji, feed me!” 

She ignored him and looked over to Sanji. “Sanji, it was nice to meet you. Please make yourself at home.” “Aye, Nami-san!” he swooned, she was so kind. “Zoro!” she called to the swordsman, who was in the process of teasing Usopp for getting so hurt falling down stairs. “Can you put the prisoner into one of the back rooms?”

He looked at her, totally confused, “what prisoner?” “What do you mean, what prisoner? The one who’s standing right…” her voice dropped off as they all turned to look at the prisoner. Or more accurately, the empty space that the prisoner had been occupying last anyone checked. Nami let out a (dignified) shriek. “Where the hell did he go? Zoro! Why weren’t you watching him?” 

Zoro crossed his arms and glared at her. “Why is this my fault? I was helping this idiot,” he pointed at Usopp, who appeared to be trying to turn invisible so as not to be dragged into a fight between Zoro and Nami. “If it was so important you could have watched him yourself, witch.” “How dare you talk to Nami-san like that, you asshole,” Sanji interjected, readying a kick. 

They both turned on him, Nami beating Zoro to the punch. “Sanji! You should have been watching him too! What have you been doing?” He spun across the room to her and dropped low before her, “my deepest apologies. I was distracted by your heavenly beauty. I am ever your faithful servant. If you command it, I shall-” She stopped him with a raised hand.

“Whatever. Zoro, go check the back rooms. Most likely he’s long gone by now but maybe he got lost and decided to just take a nap in a storage room. Though who am I kidding? Only you would do something brainless like that.” 

Zoro grumbled but disappeared into the back anyway. Nami continued, “I’m going to call and reschedule Luffy and my meeting. I don’t want to leave when there’s a chance that that guy might come back. Sanji, can you make something? Luffy’s bloody useless when he’s like this.” Sanji glanced behind her to see Luffy, lying prone in a puddle of drool muttering aimlessly. The only words Sanji could pick up were “food”, “hungry”, and “Sanji”. 

Man, what a useless boss, Sanji thought. But Nami’s wish was his command. “Right away, Nami-san!” he sang out while pushing through the swinging doors into the kitchen, trying to figure out what to make that would fill Luffy up without spoiling his dinner.

As Sanji was soon to learn, it was a naive thought. When he exited the kitchen a few minutes later with a plate of snacks for Luffy, Nami laughed in his face. She put the light plate of food in front of Kaya, saying she should eat. “A snack for Luffy is like full dinners for ten starving men,” she informed him, “please try again. And don’t worry about taste or presentation, he’s just going to inhale it anyway.” 

As Sanji would soon learn they were words of wisdom, obviously cultivated from years of experience.   
__________________________________________________________________________

The restaurant was closed on Mondays so Sanji had been planning on grabbing his stuff and getting out of there once the introductions and Luffy’s monstrous feeding were done. However, as he was leaving, he made the mistake of asking, just in passing, what Nami was doing for dinner. The intent had been to lure her to a restaurant or, even better, his home, with the promise of a fabulous meal. 

“Oh, we’ll probably just order something from Whiskey Peak,” she said breezily, unaware of the reaction Sanji was having to her words. His eye was twitching and he drew deeply on his cigarette to calm himself down. “Whiskey Peak?” he bit out incredulously, “Why on earth would you go there?” The lack of profanity was only managed because he was speaking to a lady. Whiskey Peak was half bar-half restaurant, and 100% seedy. Their food was poor and there was no pride in their establishment. Sanji hated them. 

Nami raised her eyebrows at his tight words. “They deliver, they’re cheap, they can make enough food to satisfy Luffy, and they don’t care who their customers are,” she ticked off the reasons off on her fingers. Sanji gnawed on his cigarette, those were some decent reasons. Still, there was no way he could let the lovely Nami and Kaya eat that swill. “Fine,” he said, rolling up his sleeves, “I’ll make you guys dinner.” It was going on five now, he’d have to get started soon to make as much as he thought he’d need and still have dinner done at a decent time. 

“You?” The inquiry came from the idiot swordsman who Sanji had thought was asleep. “Yeah, you shitty bastard, me. So be grateful about it,” Sanji retorted before turning back to Nami, “consider it my audition.” She inclined her head, agreeing to the terms. Sanji turned back the way he’d come, to the kitchen, to make something so good that even the moron swordsman would have to admit the quality.

__________________________________________________________________________

An hour and a half later, Sanji dusted off his hands, tired but proud. As dinner time had approached, he’d kicked everyone out of the back room. Nami and Kaya he’d asked politely, the boys, he’d informed violently. They had disappeared into the offices and rooms in the back where they all presumably had somewhere to go. 

Sanji had dragged all the scattered, little tables together to make one long, proper table. The table was currently set with one of the most beautiful and mouth-watering meals Sanji had ever made. It was an audition for the beautiful Nami-san after all and Sanji wanted to put his best foot forward. He looked it over one last time, confirming everything was perfect. 

Finding that it was, Sanji turned to the back. “Nami-san! Kaya-chan! Your fabulous dinner of love is ready! And the rest of you bastards can get out here too,” he hollered, his voice switching tones halfway through. 

Luffy was, unsurprisingly, the first one through the door. “Food!” he cried desperately and attempted to dive bomb the table. Luckily, Nami, who’d been right on his heels, managed to snag the back of his shirt, dragging him back down to earth. Zoro, Usopp, and Chopper filed in behind them and everyone took their seats. 

Sanji looked around unhappily, “where is Miss Kaya?” The question had been directed at Nami, but it was Usopp who answered. “She went home. She’s in medical school and she has a test coming up so she went to go study. She was really only here earlier to drop me off.” Sanji’s heart fell. Half the good company had left and now it was just him, Nami, and the animals. 

Speaking of which, as he’d been talking, the others had started eating. Sanji watched in horror as his immaculate spread was ransacked by the rude ingrates seated around the table. Luffy was grabbing everything he could reach and shoving it into his mouth faster than it was physically possible to eat. Even Patty and Carne, whose manners Sanji had always complained about at the Baratie, ate better than this. Luffy reached across the table, taking food indiscriminately from serving platters and the other’s plates.

When his hand drifted too close to Zoro’s food, the swordsman impaled his steak knife in the table less than an inch from Luffy’s wandering fingers, his eyes never leaving his plate. Sanji knew a warning shot when he saw it and had no delusions that the swordsman hadn’t missed on purpose. 

Luffy seemed to share his thoughts and his hand dolefully retreated. Zoro pulled his hand back to his food, but the knife remained, vertically suspended in the wood. 

The other boy’s manners were a little better than their boss’, but not by much. Zoro used silverware sparingly (except when he was using it to fend off Luffy), shoveled food in his mouth, and washed it down with alcohol right out of the bottle. Usopp had launched into another obviously fabricated epic, eating at the same time and spraying bits of food with every word. 

Chopper was obviously trying to eat neatly, which endeared the young boy to Saji somewhat, but it was clear his only role models were these barbarians. He gasped in response to something Usopp said and his fork froze halfway to his mouth. Luffy snatched it out of his hand without him even noticing. As he kept eating mechanically, eyes riveted on Usopp, he just grabbed the food with his fingers.

Sanji was appalled by the scene before him. Like a car crash though, he couldn't look away. He looked to Nami desperately. She was his island in this sea of madness. She, at least, was using her silverware and napkin, though she was eating rather hurriedly. Sanji was quickly realizing that at table with Luffy, that was the only way you got anything. He was grateful he’d had the foresight to leave himself a plate of food in the kitchen. 

Luffy reached for Nami’s meal and Sanji kicked him in the face as a deterrent. Nami wouldn’t have to defend her own food, not while her prince was here. The kick had been strong enough to break bones but Luffy just laughed it off and turned to pillage from Usopp instead. Sanji didn’t care. That long nosed idiot could defend his own food. 

Realizing that her food was safe for the moment, Nami looked up at him. Sanji was sure that any moment now the confession of gratitude and love was going to come pouring out of her mouth. “Sanji, this is really good,” she said gesturing to her plate with her fork. He beamed at her. It may not be a confession of love, but it was certainly a close second in his book. 

He bowed low and immediately began extolling her many virtues, claiming to be too lowly to even stand in her presence. If his meager food had brought her even a scrap of happiness, then he was satisfied. He lost track of his exact words, he was giddy from her praise, and the compliments were second nature. 

Luffy nodded and managed to garble around a ridiculous mouthful of food, “it’s delicious!” Though Sanji was translating since it actually came out sounding like “iss dewichish” which certainly wasn’t any kind of english Sanji understood. Usopp and Chopper agreed with their boss, Chopper smiling happily and declaring the meal one of the best he ever ate. Sanji thanked them all, even though he took Luffy’s praise with a grain of salt because the man had no actual standards. 

Only Zoro remained silent. Not that Sanji needed compliments from everyone he cooked for, but he found it irked him that the swordsman was the only one that said nothing. He stood behind him and put on his most saccharine voice, “so marimo-kun, what do you think of my food?” 

He was honestly expecting to be completely ignored, but Zoro stopped eating and turned all the way around in his chair so he was looking up at Sanji. Though he did take the precaution of keeping an arm curled around his plate to protect it from Luffy. Sanji wondered if that was proof that he liked it or just an instinctual survival mechanism the swordsman had acquired.

“Marimo?” Zoro questioned, his voice straining to keep its usual cold neutrality. “Yeah,” Sanji grinned, “it’s a japanese moss ball and you happen to have some growing out of your head.” Zoro growled. “I know what a marimo is, shit-cook.” “Ooh, someone got there before I did, huh? I knew it was too good a nickname to be original,” Sanji retorted.

Zoro took a deep calming breath through his nose, “whatever, moron. Just let me get back to my meal in peace.” Sanji had been distracted for a second by that brilliant new insult that had just rolled off his tongue, but Zoro’s words reminded him what he had been asking about to begin with. 

“Oi, you never said what you thought about my food,” Sanji pushed. Zoro sighed, “what’s to say. It’s food.” And with that he went back to eating and drinking like he was starving and it was a race to see who could shovel the most food down the fastest. Sanji’s eye twitched. There were so many things wrong with that sentence. It wasn’t just food. Sanji’s food was never just food. He poured his heart and soul into every meal he made. Obviously, the idiot marimo was too dumb to know good food even when it was literally under his nose. Sanji would just have to beat it into him then.

Lucky for Zoro, it appeared the swordsman had eyes in the back of his head. It took the same amount of time for Sanji to raise his leg and slam it down with the force of a guillotine as it did for Zoro to unsheath one of his swords and bring it over his head to intercept the blow before it hit. Sanji was impressed, though he already knew the swordsman well enough to know that his kick, which would have been enough to crush the skull of and kill a normal person, would only have bruised Zoro and maybe given him a bit of a headache. 

“Oi, cook,” Zoro groused, “leave me alone to finish my crappy meal in peace.” “Crappy?!” Sanji saw red as Zoro’s indifference shifted into insults. He swung his leg around, ready to slam Zoro off his chair, but once again, his opponent was ready. Zoro jumped up and turned neatly, blocking the kick with his cupped palms. 

Now upright and annoyed, Zoro went on the offensive with a series of quick punches that Sanji easily avoided by bending back out of reach. This was too easy. Was Zoro playing with him? Oh, he’d teach that irritating bastard. 

The fight lasted for half an hour and the only reason that the food hadn’t been ruined was that Luffy had finished off the last of it in the first five minutes of their brawl.

Later, Sanji sat at the little table in the kitchen by himself, having just finished his own dinner. He was still stewing about Zoro. That shitty moron got under Sanji’s skin like no one else ever had. And it wasn’t just him that had Sanji chain smoking in his kitchen when he should have been going home. It was this whole fucking place. 

First the confrontation with that stranger, then Usopp wandering in half-dead, and then the debacle that was dinner and his fight with Zoro. Sanji didn’t know how he was going to stand working here. Only one day and he could already feel his sanity and good sense slipping away. These people, with the exception of Nami-san, were all completely insane. And even she wasn’t quite the same as the sweet, shy, upper class ladies that would come to the Baratie for lunch, not that she wasn’t an absolute goddess.

There was only one thing for it. He would just ignore them all as much as physically possible. He would talk to them as little as possible, with the exception of Nami-san of course. Besides, she was the manager of the restaurant so she was the only one he actually had to speak to anyway. 

It couldn’t be that hard. Just stay out of their business, don’t talk to them, do his job, and go home. Maybe after a little while of this purgatory Zeff would have pity and let him come back to the Baratie. He just had to last until then. Easy.


	2. So You've Been Convinved to Attend the World's Most Dangerous Meeting

Over the next two weeks, Sanji fell into a routine. The Thousand Sunny, while known for being a mob hangout, also had a reputation for great food and they did a thriving business at lunch and dinner. As the head chef, Sanji was incredibly busy. He set the menu, corralled the other chefs, and cooked three times as much food as the others did. 

Peripherally, he learned a bit about the Strawhats business. The ragtag group he’d met the first day hadn't been a rare occurrence. He figured they didn't actually live there, but they certainly spent most of their time there. 

Their network of back rooms was actually much more complex than he had first assumed. The first time he went back there, trying to find Nami’s office to give a report on a supplier, he’d gotten lost. He’d mistakenly poked his head into a small library, a clinic, a training room, and what appeared to be some kind of tool or machine shop before he finally found the right place. 

Nami’s office was broken in two, just like the building itself. Half was a proper restaurant manager’s office with a desk and file cabinets full of staff and supplier records. The other half was technically Luffy’s. It was a receiving area of sorts. Samji disliked the constant stream of lowlifes that flowed through to do business, but since they entered through the back door and never set foot in his kitchen or restaurant, he had no place to complain. 

Nami and he talked briefly at the end of each day to compare notes. Sanji always complimented and flirted, but Nami always kept the exchanges brief and professional. Sanji was sure he was wearing her down though. 

The others he saw only occasionally. Luffy would charge him on sight and demand food so Sanji learned to have a quick defense. Chopper and Usopp were friendly, but too busy for more than a nod or quick hello. Sanji didn't know what they spent their time doing, but they always seemed quite intent with it. The worst though, were the few times that he ran into Zoro. The bastard would smile in that condescending way that was much more sneer than true smile. Sanji always tried to keep a cool head but every time he saw that smirk, he saw red. So far, every time they had crossed paths a fight had broken out. 

Sanji had taken to avoiding him like he was dying of a very contagious disease. Now that would be lucky. Zoro, for his part, seemed content with the arrangement and didn’t comment if Sanji’s subtlety ever slipped and he was caught blatantly entering a room he had no need to be in just so they wouldn’t cross paths. 

Once, he had seen Zoro coming (normally Zoro’s heavy bootfalls gave enough warning to get away but Sanji had been lost in a daydream about Nami and hadn't heard) and ducked into the first room he saw, slamming the door quickly behind him. He stared at the wall directly in front of him. The “room” was a broom closet. Sanji reddened, strictly with annoyance, mind, not embarrassment. 

He considered going back out, but the image of that bastard’s smug condensation swam in front of his eyes and he decided against it. Zoro only had the one brain cell, maybe he’d just assume Sanji had come in to grab something. Yeah! Of course he’d assume that. Sanji just had to act casual. Besides, if the swordsman dared to make a comment, Sanji would just fight him. That wouldn’t be so bad. As angry as the fights made him, they were always a challenge and a great way to relieve stress. 

Zoro didn’t say anything, but when he passed the closet, Sanji could hear him chuckling. Damn it. Somehow, that was worse. Sanji knew he was being mocked, but it wasn’t enough to start a fight. He let his head fall back against the wood with a thunk and lit a cigarette. Even after Zoro’s steps had faded away, Sanji stayed in the closet, breathing deeply and trying not to think about how much he hated irritating green-haired swordsmen.

__________________________________________________________________________

It was three weeks to the day since he started working at the Sunny, and Sanji was in the kitchen trying out a new recipe. If it was decent, he’d ask Nami to try it to get her opinion. He stirred the pot contemplatively, wondering if you could make someone actually fall in love with you just by serving them the right food. He ladled up some of the broth and took a sip. Not bad. But missing something. 

He lowered the heat and stared out over the kitchen, mentally rifling through ingredients to see what it was lacking. A crash from the other room interrupted his process. He was not in the mood to deal with this. Deciding to pretend he was insane and there was no sound, he attempted to return to his thoughts. Two more crashes sounded, louder than the first, like the fight knew it was being ignored and had turned petulant. 

Sanji gnawed on his cigarette, seeking relief in the nicotine. The noises from the fight kept up, punctuated occasionally by screams. What were they doing out there? Fights never lasted this long. They were probably trashing his place. Whatever. It was none of his business and anything they broke, they could fix. 

He turned his back to the brawl and took another taste of his food. It tasted the same as it had last time because he still had yet to add anything else. “Cook!” a rough voice bellowed from the other room. Sanji groaned. No way was he getting involved in this. Especially if it was his number one least favorite person doing the yelling. 

“Cook! Get your ass out here!” the shout had increased slightly in volume, as if Sanji just couldn’t hear him. Which, Sanji realized, was an excellent idea. He would just pretend he had suddenly gone deaf. The rude summons devolved into a string of curses which Sanji ignored while repeating quietly to himself, “I hear nothing. I am deaf. I hear nothing.” 

“Sanji! Get out here now!” the pitch to Zoro’s voice had risen slightly and the neutral tone was slipping. Torn between curiosity at Zoro’s first and only use of his real name and annoyance at being pulled away from his personal work for something that clearly wasn’t his problem, Sanji stalked towards the swinging doors that led to the back room.

He stepped out of the kitchen and into a tornado. At least, that’s how it first appeared. After a moment it became clear that what had looked like a miniature natural disaster was actually Zoro, in the midst of fighting off a small army. The back room was packed with thugs and while Zoro outclassed all of them by a wide margin, he was significantly outnumbered. 

The floor was already littered with unconscious bodies, but it seemed for every one Zoro took down, two more took their place. A steady stream of them were pouring in from the direction of the restaurant proper. Sanji was glad they had stormed the place on an off day so there weren't any patrons getting traumatized.

When a thug that was nowhere near Zoro went down, Sanji realized he wasn’t the only strawhat fighting in the room. A table had been tipped over in a corner to build a makeshift barricade. Behind it knelt Usopp, armed with a slingshot and pachinko balls that he was using to systematically pick off one bad guy at a time. Sanji had to take a moment and be impressed with his aim. The sniper didn’t even miss once.

However, his presence in the room was adding strain to Zoro who was trying to fight while keeping the thugs away from both Usopp’s impromptu perch and the door to the offices. Even though he fought like a dervish, it was obviously a tall order. 

“You’re really getting your ass kicked, marimo. Need me to rescue you?” Sanji mocked as he stepped farther into the room. Zoro turned, effortlessly dispatching the enemy in front of him. He had a sword in each hand, with the third gripped between his teeth. Sanji had wondered how he wielded three at once. Zoro had only ever drawn two during their fights, and he had assumed the third was simply a spare. Obviously, that was not the case.

Zoro grinned around the weapon and spoke with almost no modulation to his voice, “just didn’t want you to miss a good fight, cook. You should say thank you.” Well that was certainly not going to happen, but Sanji decided that just this once he’d forgive the swordsman dragging him away from his cooking. He’d been going slightly insane recently and a fight was just what he needed to let off some frustration. 

The thugs finally noticed that a new and less well armed target had appeared before them and were quick to attack. The first guy came at him with a sword, the movement slow and uncoordinated. Zoro had officially spoiled him for other swordsmen. He lazily ducked the swing by bending backwards, under its arc. Instead of cutting through him, the blade cut through the thin wall-hanging behind him.

“You asshole!” Sanji yelled at the gangster, catching him with a kick to the ribs. “What the hell do you think you’re doing to my restaurant?” The guy hit the wall across the room, but Sanji continued taking out his anger on the guy’s compatriots, punctuating each phrase with a kick. “Do you have any idea. How hard it is. Finding authentic japanese wall hangings. In the Grand Line??” 

Zoro smirked at him, “working some stuff out, cook?” 

Sanji shrugged, “cheaper than therapy.”

The two men threw themselves back into the fight. With two of them, it became infinitely easier. The back room was smaller than the restaurant’s main room, but large enough that both men could fight comfortably without getting in each other’s way. Between the two of them, they created a wall of activity that there was no way to sneak around. Usopp provided cover, picking off any enemy that tried to take advantage of an opening, though Zoro and Sanji were both fairly self sufficient. 

The fight was over in under ten minutes. The endless stream of goons had finally run out and piles of unconscious bodies littered the floor. Sanji and Zoro had waited expectantly for the next wave, but none had ever come. 

Sanji kicked one of the piles lightly, as if expecting more fighters to leap up from underneath their fallen friends, but no such thing happened. Zoro sheathed his swords, poking his head into the restaurant to make sure there weren’t any stragglers. Usopp tentatively peeked over his table barricade, but seemed loath to abandon its safety.

When the door to the offices slammed open, all three of them jumped, expecting another attack. Two swords, a raised leg, and a loaded slingshot were all immediately pointed at the person who now stood framed in the doorway. Nami threw her hands up, “woah woah! Down boys.” 

The boys relaxed. Zoro and Usopp just lowered their weapons with a relieved sigh, but Sanji was horrified. He had just almost attacked a woman. And not just any woman, his Nami-san! Oh the horror! He threw himself to the floor at her feet. “My princess, how can I ever earn your forgiveness for this most grievous error?” he grovelled.

She ignored him and stepped over him into the room. This gave him a chance to notice what she was wearing for the first time. Usually she wore light dresses around the restaurant, or a skirt and button down on days with more official business. 

Today, however, she was dressed to the nines. She wore a long plum colored dress with a slit up the side. Around her shoulders was a black fur stole. For the first time since he’d met her, she looked like she would truly fit into the criminal underworld of which she was a part of. 

Following on her heels was Luffy. Sanji’s cigarette almost fell out his mouth in surprise. He wondered what Nami had had to do or threaten in order to get Luffy to change from his usual casual clothes into what he was wearing now. In a black double breasted suit with subtle pinstripes, Luffy finally looked like a proper mafia boss. Though the straw hat that he still wore was slightly incongruous with the rest of his outfit. 

The boy also looked thoroughly miserable and whined piteously as he dragged his feet. “Nami~” he complained loudly, “I don’t wanna go. It’s gonna be boring and I’m hungry!” Nami ignored him. It seemed to be a special talent of hers. Instead she focused in on Zoro and her eyes narrowed dangerously.

“You aren’t dressed!” she accused. Luffy stuck his head around her curiously as if he expected Zoro to be standing in the middle of the room stark naked. He seemed genuinely surprised when Zoro was, in fact, clothed. 

“Silly Nami, Zoro is wearing clothes,” he was quick to point out to Nami, who was less than impressed with his deductionist abilities and silenced him by hitting him in the back of the head.

“Well he’s not dressed for where we’re going. Zoro, go change. Now!” she instructed strictly. Zoro grumbled loudly but did as he was told, skirting around Sanji, who was still kneeling in the doorway, to get to the back. 

“Oh, that reminds me,” Nami said, “Luffy, who’d you get to be the second with Zoro?” 

Luffy tipped his head to the side, “second?” “Yeah. Zoro’s one, but we need two.” Luffy just blinked owlishly at her and she sighed her world weary sigh. “You didn’t get anyone. I figured as much.” 

Sanji finally dragged himself up off the floor, his curiosity over their odd conversation and dress were distracting him from his continued horror at himself for almost attacking a lady. “Where are you going?” he inquired. 

Nami started, as if she’d forgotten he was there. Probably because she had. She looked him up and down before clapping her hands together. “This is perfect,” she said with a grin. Sanji must have looked as confused as he felt because she sighed and gestured him over to a small round table. It was the only one left standing after the mayhem that had just wrapped up. 

He sat down opposite her and she started her explanation. “You know how the city works, right?” He nodded, assuming she was referencing the four boroughs and their power players. “So we control the East City, if you can call what we do control. Luffy is really a more “hands off” kind of boss.” Even her air quotes managed to feel contemptuous. 

“Anyways, the other districts are controlled by other parties. About once a month, all the big bosses sit down together. They air grievances, dispute territory, make deals, and discuss outside threats.” 

Sanji was gaping. The idea of all the most powerful players in the city holding court was terrifying. Besides, wouldn’t they all just kill each other? “Isn’t that really dangerous?” he managed to ask. 

Nami shrugged, “Doesn’t really matter. It’s probably the only thing that’s kept this city from burning to the ground in an all out mob war. And most of these guys are smart enough to know that killing their rivals straight out will just end in a bloody power struggle. Or some of them,” she shot a glare at Luffy who was tugging miserably on his collar, “are too lazy to ever do any sort of sche- planning. You have to wonder sometimes how they even climbed this high.” 

Sanji secretly agreed. He’d never seen any visible ambition in Luffy. The boy was odd, and a complete mystery as far as Sanji was concerned. 

Nami got back on track, “besides, precautions are taken. The rules of the meeting are very strict. Each boss is only allowed to have three people with them: one advisor for counsel and two strong arms as a deterrent. That way there’s enough power in one room that a fight would only mean mutually assured destruction.” 

Like countries with their fingers on nukes, thought Sanji. “So is that why you’re all dressed up? The meeting is today?” he asked, already knowing the answer. Nami nodded and smoothed her dress over her legs, “The formal attire is a long standing tradition.” 

She ignored his passionate ‘you look even more stunning than usual Nami-san!’ and continued, “I’m going with Luffy as his advisor. Zoro’s our muscle, that’s why he had to go change. We have to leave in the next half an hour or we’re going to be late.” Sanji did some basic math in his head. “Wait, so you, Luffy, and Zoro are going. Who’s your second enforcer?” 

Nami widened her eyes, doing her best impression of wide eyed innocence, “well Sanji-kun, that’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about. Luffy was supposed to get someone but he forgot.” 

Luffy interjected loudly, “Oi, Nami! I didn’t forget. I asked Usopp, but he said no because he’s too scared.” Usopp stood up from where he’d been relaxing behind his table shield, trying to slow down his racing heart beat. “I’m not scared! And I definitely would have come. It’s just that I’ve recently come down with ‘I can’t get killed by dangerous mob bosses today disease’. Otherwise the brave Captain Usopp-sama would gladly have leapt into danger,” he protested. The shaking of his knees contradicted his words. 

Nami rolled her eyes before remembering that she was supposed to be playing sweet and helpless and snapping back into character, “So Sanji-kin, we have to leave soon and I need help. I’m sure Zoro could handle it on his own, but the regulations say I need two. So what do you say? Will you bodyguard for me?” 

Sanji’s promises to himself, both to stay out of mob business and to swear off women for a while, flitted briefly through his head. As Nami spoke, she leaned into him across the table, the low cut of her dress slipping lower as she moved. 

Sanji felt all his complaints and arguments melting as his brain shut down. Guarding the body of the gorgeous Nami-san? It was like a dream come true. Besides, if he didn’t go, she’d be left in the care of that incompetent oaf Zoro. He couldn’t allow that even if she, for some reason, seemed to trust him. 

Somewhere in his stunned drooling over her, he must have nodded. She jumped up. “Great! Thanks Sanji, that’s a big help. And you’re already in a suit so you don’t even have to change,” she said, instantly and seamlessly shifting back into casually professional Nami.

Zoro finally meandered back into the room. Sanji had to reluctantly admit that he didn’t look terrible. His suit was all black and was perfectly tailored. The shirt was open at the collar so that the tan column of his throat was visible. The jacket was also open and one side was pushed back so that his hands could rest on his swords. 

“Zoro, nice timing. We were just leaving,” Nami said. She strode over to the doorway and flipped up a small panel that Sanji had never noticed before. Underneath was an intercom. The system must run through all the back rooms, but Sanji had never seen anyone use it before. She pressed the button and spoke into the crackling static of the speaker, “We’re ready. You can bring the car around.” 

Luffy gave an excited whoop and went racing towards the front. Nami was one step behind him, chastising him for ruining his nice clothes and pretending not to see Sanji’s proffered arm. Sanji was left gaping at the empty space she’d just vacated wondering how she’d moved so fast in those heels and lamenting that he wouldn’t be able to walk her to the car. 

Zoro smirked as if he could read Sanji’s mind. He clapped him on the back on his way out, lumbering out after the others. Sanji was torn between wanting to start a fight at the obvious condescension and wanting to shrug off his jacket and set it on fire. But since Nami-san needed him looking presentable and a fight would make them late, he swallowed down both of those impulses. 

Shaking off his daze, he hurried after the others. Maybe he could sit next to Nami-san in the car. The thought urged him on. And he would never, ever admit that his shoulder actually kind of hurt.

Usopp stayed behind, waving at their retreating backs somberly, as if they were going off to a war they might never return from.   
__________________________________________________________________________

The car that was pulled up in front of the restaurant stopped Sanji dead in his tracks for a second. It was a sleek black limousine with tinted windows. He’d never seen such an expensive car in his life. He tried not to be intimidated as he slid into the dim interior. Two padded bench seats faced each other and Sanji was disappointed to see Luffy already bouncing excitedly next to Nami. 

His face continued to drop when he saw that the marimo had taken the seat across from her so the only spot left was next to him, across from Luffy. Grudgingly, he sat down, pressing up against the side so there was as much room between him and the swordsman as possible. 

Nami rapped on the black screen behind her. “We’re good,” she called. The car started with a dull rumble and then they were moving. 

A certain tension filled the car as they drove. Nami was sitting perfectly straight and still, smoothing her dress over and over. Zoro was hunched over, elbows braced on his knees and hands folded. Outwardly, he looked the picture of calm. Sanji, however, was close enough to see the muscles tic and jump under his skin and knew he was wound as tight as Nami. 

Sanji, suffocating in the strained atmosphere, fiddled with his tie, absently loosening and tightening it. Only Luffy seemed immune to the heavy air. He smiled widely and pressed his face up against the window to try and see out. 

The ride passed in almost complete silence, broken only by the occasional bits of mindless chatter from Luffy. 

Before he knew it, they’d arrived and the car was pulling to a stop. Nami threw open her door, in too much of a hurry to wait for the driver to come around and open it, as was proper. Sanji couldn’t tell if she was running towards their meeting or away from the hellish ride. 

Luffy bounded out of the car after her. Zoro got out and hooked the back of his collar before he could take off. 

Sanji got out of the car cautiously. It had to occurred to him on the drive over that agreeing to this was incredibly impulsive. He had next to no idea what he was walking into except that it was exceptionally dangerous. He was, therefore, quite taken aback by the appearance of the location. 

He didn’t know what he was expecting: guys with guns guarding wrought iron gates or big dogs prowling on chains. At the very least a huge imposing structure of some sort. Instead the only thing that could really be said for the bit of sidewalk they stood on was that it was grimy. 

Looking around, he couldn’t even tell where they were headed. Perhaps the driver had gotten the wrong address. Nami did not share his misgivings. She walked up to the brick facade, bypassed the plain door, and stepped into the alley that abutted it. 

Through the shadow and grime, Sanji couldn’t make out any details on the wall but Nami knocked like she expected there to be a door. Sure enough, in response to her knock a panel slid open revealing a pair of dark eyes and a sliver of a scarred face.

“Nami,” the man greeted coldly. Nami stared him down effortlessly, cocking her hip to the side. The door didn’t open and the man didn’t leave, as if there was some silent argument going on between the two. Eventually Nami tired of the games. 

“You gonna let us in or not?” She asked snappishly. The man stared for another moment before stepping back and opening the door without a word. 

Luffy whooped and brushed past Nami to get through the door first. Sanji followed the others inside. It was dark inside and it took his eyes a moment to adjust. 

It was a club. They had come through what must have been a back entrance off to the side of the large room. The area they were in was a bar and it was the only part of the place that was lit up.

In the center of the room was a large dance floor. Sanji could see the mass of lights attached to the ceiling that must lend the club its colorful ambience when the club is open. Above the main level, wrapping around the perimeter of the room was a second floor with private booths and sofas. At night the place must have been busy and loud. As it was, the wide floor and deep shadows looked haunted and cold. 

Sanji finished looking around and turned back to his party. Zoro had already raided the bar, grabbing a bottle of liquor and a glass tumbler. Luffy was scuttling around, apparently looking for food if his mutterings were anything to go by. Nami was talking to the man who had let them in. 

He was a massive guy, easier a foot taller than Nami. He had short, white hair and wore a white jacket that was left open and stretched over his broad, muscular chest. He was smoking two cigars at once and they dangled lazily out of the side of his mouth. Saji wondered if he was the owner or just a bouncer that was watching the place during the off hours. He was certainly big enough to be a bouncer.

Nami saw Sanji watching and waved him over and made introductions. “Sanji, this is Smoker.” Smoker? Was that a real name? Or some kind of weird nickname because of his apparent propensity for cigars? “Smoker, this is Sanji. He’s the new head chef at the Thousand Sunny.” 

Sanji nodded and muttered hello. With his arms crossed over his chest, Smoker cut an intimidating figure. Sanji certainly wasn’t intimidated, but he was sensibly wary of the man. 

“You’re the head chef? I was at the restaurant last week. Good stuff. How’d you get mixed up with these crazies?” Smoker asked, hooking a thumb at Zoro and Luffy. And just like that, Sanji was a fan. He smiled, “I’m asking myself the same thing. But I just couldn’t deny my beautiful Nami-san when she asked for my help.” 

Smoker rolled his eyes good naturedly, “Yeah, she’s certainly good at getting what she wants.” Nami huffed, but Sanji could tell that the two had known each other for a long time and there was no bad blood. 

“Smoker is an ex-police chief. Now he runs this place. The meetings are held here because it’s neutral ground,” Nami explained. “And because everyone knows I’ll kick their ass if they try anything,” Smoker added.

Sanji was stuck on a different part of that sentence. “You’re a cop?” he asked incredulously. “Ex-cop,” Smoker amended. “So you’re an ex-cop. Who now owns a nightclub. That caters to the mob.” Sanji laid it out. Smoker just nodded, not understanding Sanji’s confusion. 

“Isn’t that, I don’t know, weird?” Sanji asked tentatively, trying not to laugh. Smoker laughed, a big booming sound. “Have you met this town, kid? Hell, have you met your friends over there? I’m the least weird thing around here.”

Sanji wanted to argue, but he had to concede the point. Before he could say anything, Nami called everyone to attention by clapping her hands loudly. “Alright, we don’t have time to lollygag around all day. Let’s move,” she turned to Smoker, “usual room?” He waved her towards the back, “Yeah, yeah. Head on back. Killer Croc’s already here but the spooks are running late.”

She thanked him and started walking towards a corridor all the way in the back of the room. Just before she could turn the corner, Smoker called out. “Hey. It’s gonna be tense today. Be careful.”

Nami smiled over her shoulder, “We always are. Trouble just seems to have a way of finding us.” Smoker snorted, but didn’t disagree.

The hallway was dim, lit only by service lights along the edges of the floor. At the end a door was outlined by a halo of light. As they walked, they fell automatically into position. Luffy had finally sobered up. He stood in the front, back straight. Nami was one step behind at his right shoulder. Her fists kept automatically tensing up and she took a deep breath to force herself to relax. 

Zoro and Sanji stood at the back, on the outside edges. Sanji had his hands in his pockets. He was itching for a cigarette, but didn’t have time to light one up. Zoro was on high alert too, his jacket pulled back behind his swords. It was a warning as well as just for practical access. His hands rested lightly on the hilts, ready to go in an instant if something started. 

Luffy reached the door and threw it open in one swift motion. The door slammed against the wall behind it hard enough to leave a dent from the doorknob. 

A large, round meeting table dominated the room. Eight chairs were spread out around it. A fireplace crackled quietly to the side, lending the room much of its little light. The rest was provided by a small lightbulb hanging over the table. Besides that, the room was spartan. 

A man was already seated at the table. He somehow gave the appearance of sitting at the head, even though the table was round. He was easily as tall and broad as Smoker was and he also had a cigar dangling from his lips. But the similarities stopped there. His dark hair was longer and slicked back, and he had a sutured scar running over the bridge of his nose that extended all the way across his face. It was his eyes that caught Sanji’s attention though. They gave away his character instantly, along with his smile. They were cruel.

Sanji swallowed heavily. He recognized the man from the newspapers, of course. The head of Baroque Works: Crocodile. Dragging his eyes away from the imposing figure. He looked behind him to his guards. These would be the people he’d have to fight if something went wrong here, though Nami had seemed sure that nothing would. 

There was a man and a woman. The man was as wide and thick as a wall with dark skin and a shaved head. On his chest was tattooed the japanese character for “one” in thick black ink. The woman was pale and curvy with a cloud of curly blue hair. Her outfit under her fur lined bolero seemed to be more straps than actual material. 

Sanji was trying very hard not to stare. He reminded himself that these were opponents, not just people in a bar where he could chat up anyone who was hot. He hoped that if a fight did break out, he could take on the male. He was incapable of fighting against women. It was just how he’d been brought up.

Just as Sanji remembered there were supposed to be four people, the fourth figure revealed herself. She was sitting to Crocodile’s right and had been hidden from view by the heavy shadows that the firelight cast over him. She leaned into the table and the light hit her face for the first time. 

It was the most beautiful woman Sanji had ever seen in his entire life, except perhaps for his lovely Nami-san. She had straight, black hair and intelligent blue eyes. Her straight nose ended just above her delicate mouth. She wore a tight purple corset and a long white coat. She was older than Nami and exuded an intrigue that was mature and sexy. 

She tilted her head in the palm of her hand and looked at each of them one by one. Slow, lingering glances like she was staring into their souls. She stopped when she reached Nami. “Nami-san,” she greeted cordially, “it’s been too long. Won’t you sit down?” 

“Robin-san,” Nami replied coolly, “it’s been a month. As it has been every other time.” Sanji swore he could see literal sparks in the air between the two women as they held each other’s gaze. 

Robin smiled suddenly, as if she’d won something, though as far as Sanji could tell the standoff was a draw. She broke Nami’s gaze and turned to Luffy.

“Captain-san! It’s so nice to see you. I see you have a new face with you. Did sniper-san not want to return?” She asked, polite veneer firmly in place as if they were old friends. 

Luffy opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, Nami placed her hand on his arm, cutting him off. She nodded towards the table. 

Luckily, he took the hint. None of them wanted to imagine what would happen if Luffy lost his temper here. He walked around the table and sat on the right. Nami took the spot on his right, moving her chair as far away from Crocodile’s as possible. Between his wide shoulders and heavy coat, she had limited success. Sanji realized the seating arrangements must be preassigned. 

Suddenly, it hit him. The cardinal directions of the city. Baroque Works in the North, the Strawhats in the East. The eight chairs at the table meant that space had been left for the South, but Sanji assumed those would be left empty. 

When he looked back, he realized that Robin was staring at him, an amused twinkle in her blue eyes. “So you’re the new guard. My name is Nico Robin, otherwise known as Miss All Sunday. This is Mr. 1,” she gestured to the wall standing behind her. Sanji supposed the code name helped explain the tattoo though it still seemed like a rash thing to ink on your chest.

“And this is Miss Double Finger,” she continued, gesturing to the woman. “And this,” she turned to her boss for the first time, “is Crocodile. Leader of Baroque Works.” 

That introduction was unnecessary. Everyone knew Crocodile. He was everywhere from newspaper headlines to gossip whispered behind hands in dark alleys. Kept up a positive public persona, but Sanji was wired into enough of the underground to have heard the unsavory stories that lurked beneath his shining reputation. Standing near him now, there was no question which side was the truth. The man was a predator.

“Are we interrupting something?” A cold voice asked from the doorway. Sanji turned. The last party had arrived. Cipher Pol number nine. 

Sanji knew next to nothing about this group. Rumor was that they were a group of ex-spies that had struck out on their own when the government decided they were too dangerous and tried to disband them. There were no pictures of any of the members. Any that had been taken, had been mysteriously destroyed. Accidents tended to befall the photographers. 

Sanji realized that the people in this room, including him, were probably the only people outside their organization to see them and walk away. At least he hoped he’d be walking away.

The man who had spoken was obviously the one in charge. He was tall and lean, his expertly tailored suit bulging subtly over the concealed weapons underneath his jacket. He had dark, curly hair, a strange goatee, and narrow, feline eyes. He wore a dark hat that matched his suit and on his shoulder sat a bird. 

It was a pigeon wearing… Was that pigeon wearing a tie? Were pets even allowed in a place like this? Could a pigeon really be a pet? Sanji tried to get his thoughts back on track. The man was the head of CP9. He could do whatever the hell he wanted.

“Lucci,” Robin greeted politely, “you didn’t interrupt anything, just some introductions. Please sit.” Her tone was still light and friendly, but now there was an almost sharp undertone that said that with him, the façade was harder to maintain. It was almost like he scared her. Not unthinkable, he seemed like a scary guy.

Lucci didn’t return her greeting, but took his seat. His posse fell into place around him with the same silent gravity.

The talks commenced and Sanji was immediately lost. He wondered briefly if they were speaking in code before he realized that he was just too out of his element to understand. They were discussing numbers and quadrants that must have stood for locations, but whatever map they were all referencing, Sanji had certainly never seen it. 

It didn’t help that everything of importance was practically subtext with how veiled everyone’s words were. Everything was said with tight politeness that belied the tense atmosphere. 

Luffy sat mostly quietly, his usual smile in place. It was the only smile in the room that didn’t look fake. Between his skinny build and open expression, even Sanji could feel the urge to underestimate him when compared with the other monsters at the table.

None of the bosses spoke much. The advisors discussed things in a casual tone. The advisor for CP9 was a friendly looking guy with a long, square nose. 

“That’s Kaku.” Zoro’s voice only inches from his ear made Sanji jump. He turned to glare at the smug looking swordsman who had sidled closer during his distraction. 

“Who?” Sanji asked grumpily. 

“The advisor from CP9. His name is Kaku. Staring is rude, y’know.” Zoro clarified with a smirk. 

Sanji fought down a blush at being caught staring so blatantly by the idiot next to him. Zoro leaned in even closer so no one but Sanji had any chance of hearing. “Staring can also be dangerous in our business. Wouldn’t want to be taken as a threat.”

Sanji, though annoyed at the proximity, did see his point. He made a point to fix his gaze on the table, only sneaking passing looks at the gathered mobsters. “What’s he like?” He asked Zoro at a murmur. 

“Kaku?” Zoro frowned, “Friendly and easy going shipwright by day, murderous assassin swordsman by night. Not to be underestimated.”

Sanji’s eyebrows raised, “Another pro swordsman?”

Zoro shrugged it off, “Not as rare as you’d think. Bones is one too.”

“Bones?” Sanji asked, once again feeling like the odd man out. He should’ve asked for dossiers before he agreed to come so he could read up. For now, questioning Zoro under his breath would have to do.

“Daz Bones,” Zoro elaborated, “otherwise known as ‘Mr. 1’.” His air quotes were subtle so the other wouldn’t notice them talking. It wasn’t much of a danger, everyone was fixed on the conversation at the table.

Sanji snuck a look at the towering Baroque Works enforcer. Suddenly, he had a thought. “Where’s his sword?” Sanji asked curiously. Zoro’s were obvious and now that he was looking he could see two sheaths poking out from behind Kaku. Bones had nothing. With his shirt open, there wasn’t even room for one to be concealed. 

Zoro grinned darkly, “No one knows. No one who’s fought him has lived to tell. All they know is the bodies are always sliced to ribbons. God, I’d love a chance to fight him.” Zoro’s eyes glazed, presumably with badass daydreams of intense sword fights. 

Sanji snorted, pulling Zoro from his reverie. Zoro scowled at him, but Sanji had other priorities. He felt woefully unprepared for this meeting and was determined to get any further intel he could while Zoro was still in a chatty mood. 

“What about the others from CP9? Who are they?” he asked. Zoro glanced over at the opposite side of the table. “The big guy is Blueno,” he started. Sanji eyed the enforcer. He had dark skin, a blank expression, and a barrel chest that the buttons on his dark suit struggled to contain. His black hair was twisted up into two “horns”. Sanji had no idea how he got it to stay like that. 

Zoro kept talking, “he runs a bar over in the west city. It’s actually a pretty good place if you can get over the fact that you’re drinking in a den of assassins. The implications of that statement conjured mental images of Zoro drinking on a barstool while other patrons slipped knives between his ribs and leveled silenced pistols at his head. Zoro probably thought that it was more exciting that way. Idiot. 

“And the woman?” Sanji asked. 

“That’s Kalifa. I think she’s a secretary at one of the big conglomerates. Don’t ask me which one.” He noticed Sanji staring, drool practically collecting at the edge of his mouth and tried to intervene. “She’s an assassin too,” he reminded blithely, “super dangerous. Not the kind of woman you want to get involved with. Not that she’d get with your skinny ass in the first place.” 

Sanji was vaguely aware he was being insulted, but he was way too busy staring to start a fight. It was kind of miraculous that they’d been in the same room for this long and he hadn’t stared yet. He blamed the stressful location and sharp shadows created by the shallow pool of light. 

She looked very much like her profession would suggest, half secretary, half assassin. His eyes raked down her tight black dress and fishnet stockings. Her long blond hair cascaded down her back and her narrow glasses reflected the light and blocked his view of her sure-to-be-gorgeous eyes. 

Sanji’s brain argued back and forth. On the one hand, she was stunning, and dangerous, and Sanji was pretty sure he was drooling, and he really wanted to vault the table and proposition her. On the other hand, this was neither the time, not the place. Nor the girl, for that matter. She was an assassin from a deadly organization of ex-spooks. 

Oh, and he had sworn off girls for a while. But honestly, that reasonable and logical restriction was pretty much dead. Between the beautiful and sharp Nami, the mysterious Robin, and the gorgeous but deadly Kalifa his resolve and self-control were all but shot.

“If you take even one step towards any of the women here and endanger these very important and delicate negotiations, I will kill you without any hesitation. Get it together,” Zoro’s voice was barely a whisper and the hot air from his breath blew over Sanji’s ear. The swordsman had gotten well into Sanji’s personal space while he’d been distracted. Sanji stiffened. The hair rose on the back of his neck as Zoro’s breath washed over his skin. 

“Step off, marimo,” Sanji bit out from between gritted teeth. Nobody invaded his personal space like this. Sanji set strict rules about it and anyone who broke them found themselves personally acquainted with the soles of his shoes. 

The only exception, of course, was beautiful ladies. And apparently the marimo. But only because Sanji couldn’t start a fight here without causing a three way gang war. Otherwise Zoro would be dead. Honestly, did the idiot think he would endanger all their lives just to get a date?

An irritating little voice in his head reminded him that that was exactly what he’d been considering before Zoro threatened him. Not seriously considering, he grumbled back at the voice. The voice scoffed. 

Sanji ceased his internal squabbles when he realized the marimo had yet to back off. “Yo, shitty bastard. I said back off. Now. You’re not my babysitter and I’m not going to do something stupid just because you mind your own goddamn business for five seconds,” he growled.

Zoro snorted, but apparently believed him because he took a step back. Sanji relaxed as the swordsman retreated into his own space and stopped breathing his air all over Sanji. 

The next half hour passed in silence, at least for Sanji. The advisors continued to discuss and debate, but Sanji had given up any hope of following their conversation. And though he was bored and still wanted more information, he worried another conversation with the idiot swordsman would push him to do something rash that was likely to get them all killed.

Besides, Zoro obviously felt no inclination to talk to him. He was zoned out, staring across the room. Sanji had assumed he had just turned his brain off entirely until there came a moment where a disagreement intensified slightly. Zoro went rigid, knuckles turning white as he gripped the hilt of his sword, until the atmosphere warmed back up. 

Once the moment had passed, Zoro unclenched and he flexed his fingers, returning the blood flow. Sanji wondered if he was listening and following their conversation or just instinctively reacting to the shifting pressure of the room. In either case, Sanji was grudgingly impressed.

Finally, after what felt like days, the talks began to wrap up. It had probably been only about an hour and a half, but time was difficult to tell in the dark and windowless room. Sanji was stiff from standing and tired from being on alert for so long. 

Nami and Robin shook hands, Nami glaring murder and Robin returning it with a mocking smile. Kaku shook hands with each of the ladies, looking every inch the friendly, easy going guy, and not the vicious assassin Sanji knew he was. Sanji tensed until both girls had stepped away from him.

When all the perfunctory pleasantries had been exchanged, Luffy rose and headed for the door. The room was silent as the Strawhats filed out. 

As soon as the door shut behind them, Nami deflated. She sagged against the wall, but waved Sanji off when he offered a hand. He realized it must be even worse for her than for the rest of them since she was the one actually banging out all the agreements. Sanji resolved to make something nice for her when they got home. 

Home? Where had that word come from? Nami certainly was not coming home with him, unfortunately. They were all just headed back to the restaurant. And while he had a small soft spot for the japanese restaurant, it certainly wasn’t home. One favor and suddenly he’s all ready to dive in and join a criminal organization? Not likely. 

Once they returned, it was right back to old habits and that was that. And speaking of getting back, the others looked just as ready as he was. Nami sighed and pulled herself off the wall, “I hate leaving Crocodile and Lucci alone together. I always worry they’re plotting behind our backs or something.” 

“Why did we leave first then? Are there rules?” Sanji asked curiously. Nami dragged her way down the hallway, flanked by Sanji and Zoro. “No, there’s no rules about who leaves first. Apparently some people just can’t wait to get out of there,” Nami answered grumpily. 

There was no question who she was talking about. Luffy’s cries of “Freeee! Freeee!” could still be heard bouncing off the walls. The boy himself had taken off at a sprint the second the door had shut. 

They followed his enthusiastic cries back down the hall to the main room. It was almost evening and the club was slowly starting to come to life. Luffy was sprinting towards the bar screaming about food. Nami stopped him with a shout, “Luffy. We’re leaving. You can eat at the restaurant.” 

Disappointed, but buoyed by the promise of future food, Luffy drifted back to the others. Zoro drifted to the side, towards the main floor and slightly behind the other three. Sanji wondered if it was possible to get lost while headed in a single direction with a group. Or possibly he was just trying to make a run for the bar. Nami obviously was thinking similarly. 

“If you wander off, I’m not coming back for you,” she warned strictly. Zoro scowled, “Shut it witch, I’m not wandering anywhere.” He seemed tense, both hands holding onto the swords at his hip. And that’s when Sanji realized.

The back and side, the two directions an attack was most likely to come from. Zoro was positioning himself so that if anyone wanted to get at the other three, they would have to go through him first.

What the hell?! Sanji didn’t need to be protected. He could kick ass with the best of them. That was like half the reason he was even on this stupid trip. If Zoro thought he was some delicate lady that needed protecting they were going to have a serious talk in which Sanji kicked him until he got the idea. Sanji was just about to open his mouth and start that conversation when something stopped him. 

Taking a closer look at Zoro’s face, Sanji realized that underneath his ever present scowl there were lines of worry etched into his face and he looked slightly strained. Sanji was suddenly reminded about the horde of minions he and Zoro had fought off earlier. In all the chaos, he’d forgotten to ask who had sent them, but it must have been one of the two other bosses. Sanji wondered if that was what was wearing so heavily on Zoro’s mind. The man certainly looked like he was bracing for another attack to start at any second. 

A small and unwanted trace of understanding snuck into Sanji’s thoughts. This was Zoro’s job. To get everyone else in and out safely. Sanji had never asked how long Zoro had been with the Strawhats but it must have been a while. Sanji knew just from the limited interaction he’d witnessed that the Strawhats acted more like a slightly dysfunctional family than a real hardcore criminal gang. 

And Zoro wasn’t doing this because he thought they were weak. He was protecting Luffy too and from what Sanji had heard Luffy was just as strong, if not stronger, than the swordsman. Sanji didn’t know how that was possible but if it was even close to true then there was no reason for Zoro to take up a defensive position. Sanji wondered if protecting was just so second nature to him that he didn’t even think about it.

“Marimo, you good?” Sanji asked carefully. He didn’t like showing anything that could be misconstrued as concern but also if the swordsman was going to keel over from stress or had some prior knowledge of a threat Sanji wanted to know about it sooner rather than later. 

Zoro started a bit when he was addressed, he’d been deep in concentration studying the small knots of people scattered around the club. He frowned at Sanji, like he was trying to see through him for some ulterior motive of the question.

Sanji threw his hands up in annoyance. “You look like you’re about to lunge at anyone who steps within five feet of us. You know something I don’t?” Zoro just kept staring at him and Sanji huffed out an annoyed breath.

“Whatever. Die of stress for all I care.” He was about to stalk away unhappily, having fallen back slightly to talk to Zoro, but Zoro stopped him by finally speaking up.

“It’s not like that. I don’t know anything for sure. I just… don’t like this. The meeting today, it was too easy. Something doesn’t feel right,” Zoro said. He seemed reluctant to admit to his hunch without proof. 

Sanji’s first instinct was to blow him off. Throw out a ‘you worry too much’ and move on. But something stopped him. Zoro was lazy and an asshole, but he was a very good swordsman and he’d been doing this job for a long time. If he thought something was wrong, even without any proof, Sanji was inclined to be on his guard. 

Maybe Zoro’s strung out nerves were just infecting him, making him paranoid. He wondered if there was even such a thing as paranoid when you worked for the mob. It wasn’t paranoia if someone really was trying to kill you.

“It’s fine. I’ll talk to Luffy about it later. Let’s just get back,” Zoro continued. Sanji realized they’d both stopped walking and Luffy and Nami had pulled ahead. Despite his words, Zoro waited for Sanji to move first. He did, though it galled him somewhat to let Zoro walk at the back. 

He reminded himself that it wasn’t personal, Zoro was just used to protecting everyone. It was probably pathological at this point. In a way, it was flattering that Zoro considered him to be enough a part of their gang that he warranted protection. Quickly, he dismissed that thought, clutching at his still present annoyance at being coddled. He’d kick Zoro’s ass about it later. 

As he pushed through the side door of the club, he wondered idly when he’d gone from despising the swordsman to respecting him. Obviously, he still hated the bastard. It’s just… he couldn’t quite shut up the tiny voice that was a little impressed with the swordsman. He protected his people, was a damn good fighter, and his instincts were as sharp as his swords. 

It was a grudging respect, outweighed by dislike, but respect nonetheless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the nice comments so far! I'm bad at replying to them, but I read them all and they make me irrationally happy. Hopefully the plot will start really picking up some traction going forward. Hope you enjoyed chapter 2!


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